


The World Ahead

by katajainen



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2018 [24]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Admiring the scenery, F/M, Fluff, Ithilien, No beta - provided as is, Picnic, Post-WR, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 13:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13835685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katajainen/pseuds/katajainen
Summary: Faramir has brought his lady-love to Ithilien, and wishes to show off the land to its best advantage.





	The World Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> Day 26 of the February Ficlet Challenge, prompt: picnic.
> 
> (Can you tell I stretched that one a bit?)

It was springtime once more in Ithilien. The sun was high on a sky the pale blue of a robin’s egg, but the shadows between the trees were cool, and fragrant with pine sap and the scent of flowering herbs. They had crossed the river some time ago, and the path had dwindled down to a narrow game track twisting and slipping between the trees and boulders as they climbed ever higher.

‘Should you have brought me this far with my eyes unhindered, my Captain?’ Éowyn asked when they passed into the cleft between the cliffs, the stone faces so close to one another there was no room for them to walk abreast.

Faramir turned to look at her. Her question was not without sense, since she had heard his story of meeting the Ringbearer many times. ‘It’s true it was our custom to keep the way secret even from the allies of Gondor,’ he said. ‘But since then I have been given the rule of this land for my own, and I claim it is within my power to relax the rule for one I know to be true beyond all doubt. Thus I place my life in your hands, my lady – do you question my judgment?’

She did not, and even if she did not quite smile, he could tell his reasoning pleased her.

They climbed past the chambers behind the waterfall, up the tightly-winding stair speckled with water, up until they were beneath the open sky once more, looking over the surrounding lands from high.

He could hear the quiet sound of delight she made as they emerged onto the wide-open flat of stone, and saw the joy in her far-gazing eyes as they roamed over the rocky wooded hills descending below their feet down into the vale of Anduin, where the water gleamed with dazzling brilliance where the sun touched it. And far ahead of them, limning the Western horizon, stood the high peaks of the White Mountains, snow-capped against the blue, and beyond them, the land of her birth.

They sat themselves down on that high place, and had a ranger’s supper of dried meat and fruit, waybread and water. A buzzard cried high in the luminous airs, the waters sang as they poured down the cliffs into the deep pool below, and her hand was warm in his, a shield-maiden’s hand hardened and made strong by swordplay, and her slow-blooming smile brought warmth to his heart sweeter than any sunshine.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said Éowyn once they were done eating, ‘this land your king has given you; I think I could grow to love it.’

And Faramir noticed how she pronounced _your king,_ and understood her, for she was proud of her line, his lady of the Mark, grand-daughter and sister to kings, and briefly a thought came to him, not for the first time, that his brother and his lady would have liked each other well. ‘I’m glad,’ he said aloud, ‘for I would not have you dwell in a land you did not find pleasant. There are no wide green grasslands Ithilien–’ he gestured over the forested country before them– ‘but it is rich in herb and flower, and there were once gardens here, and could be once more, gardens of such beauty as have never been seen since the days of old Gondor – if you but will it.’

She looked upon him then, and the light of the setting sun sparked in her eyes, and the wind of the high places was in her hair, and she was more beautiful to him then than in any fine dress of courtly fashion. ‘If I should will it,’ she said, ‘I would also will that there be places left untouched, where one could come and gaze upon the land like a buzzard on wing, unbounded by neither tree nor mountain.’

‘My lady speaks the words of a poet, and she will have her wish, and all the wide views she desires.’

‘My people put their deeds in songs, not book-lore, and any skill I have with words I have learned in the mead-halls of the kings of the Mark,’ she answered him with a smile.

‘That is no mean skill at all,’ he said, ‘and I should hope some songs of the Mark will be made of lady Éowyn, as fair as she is courageous, and how she came to rule over a land of high hills and wooded meadows, and how it was made even more beautiful by her hand.’

‘My lord has made a fair start there,’ she quipped back, ‘I deem he will make a fine song-wright yet.’

‘I would be glad to.’

And they stayed to watch the sun set beyond Ered Nimrais and were content. The wonder of the Henneth Annûn would wait for another day, and Faramir doubted if it could ever enchant his lady like the open skies and the slow brilliance of alighting stars.


End file.
